Never Before, Never After
by PPP SSC
Summary: Zihark tells the tale of the one woman he ever loved.  One fateful reunion leads to their relationship building again.  Zihark/important laguz girlfriend.  Rated T for brief sexuality.
1. The Meeting

None Before, None After

I remember the grove where we met the first time. She was beautiful, walking along the riverbed. She had long chestnut hair, and the cutest purr you'd ever hear. That day, I looked at her. My cheeks flushed, and she looked back at me. I averted my gaze in embarrassment, and she laughed.

"Hey," she said, "You don't see too many humans in these parts."

"I'm here to study," I said, still looking away.

"Study?" she asked, before giving a hearty laugh, "You don't _look _like a mage!"

"Well, no…" I said, "I'm not."

"Are you one of those fancy 'tacticians' then?" she asked.

"Well, not really…" I said. "Kind of?"

"You a peace-loving egghead?" she teased again.

"Prepare to be astonished," I said, "I'm a mercenary!"

She laughed in my face. "Please forgive me," she said, "It's just that I find the idea of a mercenary studying… well, laughable."

"Yeah, well, it's been said I'm an anomaly in the business," I responded. My heart was pounding with anxiety. _She hates me._

"It's not bad," she said, "It's good to find beorc with less-than-predictable personalities."

"Beorc?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's what we call you to be friendly," she said.

"I…I know," I said. _She likes me!_

"My, you are a clever one, aren't you?" she asked. "What's your name, handsome?"

"It's… It's," I stammered. I couldn't believe this beautiful woman just called _me _handsome. "It's Z-Z-Zihark."

"My name is Desdemona," she said.

"That's a… lovely name," I said. _Oh goddess, please let her love me…_

"Well, I hope to see you again, Zihark!" she said.

"What?" I asked, "You can't stay?"

"I'd really love to," she said, "But I think that my family is looking for me."

"Oh, well… how about the same place, same time tomorrow?" I asked.

"I'll be there," she said, winking. Then she ran off.

"I'll… I'll see you," I said a moment too late.


	2. The Kiss

I remember the night we first kissed. Knowing that I was meeting her that night, I had dressed up. I had also intended to bring her flowers. I couldn't find anything except a random herb, but checked the scent to make sure it wasn't offensive.

She took her own sweet time to arrive; for the first fifteen minutes I was certain she had forgotten, or worse, deliberately set me up to look like a fool. But she did get there.

"Hey!" she said, "You're here!"

"I am," I said.

"No offense meant of course," Desdemona responded, "It's just the last time I went out to meet a beorc he ditched me."

"You-you've been out with a beorc before?" I asked. Somehow I didn't feel as exotic and superficially unattainable when I knew that I wasn't the first one.

"Not successfully," she said. "My mother says that all beorc are the same—or rather that all 'humans' are the same, and that they wouldn't stick around for me. But you, you did stick around for me."

"How could anyone not?" I asked. "You're beautiful!"

"You think so?" she asked.

"I… yes," I said. "Here," I said, sheepishly handing her the herb. "I realize that these are terrible quality for someone of your beauty, but they were honestly the best I could find."

"You… these… they're…" Desdemona said. I recognized that look; it was the same look I had the previous day when she called me handsome. "How did you _find _these?"

"They were just kind of lying around," I said.

"You _found and picked them _in the _wild?" _she asked. "Oh, my… I thought that you were rich and had connections, but… instead you have an eye that could put even the best cat to shame."

"Wait, this herb is rare?" I asked.

"Rare doesn't begin to describe it!" she said. "They're not only _the _most uncommon herb in Gallia, but my personal favorite. And you said, what, 'they're terrible quality for someone of my beauty'?"

"Well…" I said. I did say that, but what should I have said then? Would she be flattered that I would think she was so beautiful, or insulted that I thought her favorite herb was of terrible quality?

"That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," she said. "Come here, Zihark."

"Okay," I said. She wrapped her arms around my neck. I looked into her eyes, and she looked into mine. I was terrified. At the same time, this is what I wanted all along, but I had no idea how to act.

"What should I do?" I asked.

"Kiss me," Desdemona responded, "If you really feel like I'm so beautiful, you should have no problem doing so."

"O-okay," I said, "But I've never kissed before…"

"Really?" she asked, laughing. "That surprises me! You're sweet, handsome, smart, _and _strong. Why would anyone reject you?"

"It's not that," I said. "I've just never felt this passionate about anyone before."

"Here," she said, "I'll guide you." I kissed her as directed. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. My heart raced. Somehow, our tongues touched. Eventually she had to break us apart physically.

"Zihark," she said. "Thank you for that."

"It wasn't sloppy and terrible?" I asked.

"I find your total virginity adorable," she said.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah," she responded. "I'd love for you to meet my family."

"But isn't your mom racist?" I asked.

"I'm sure she'll change her mind upon meeting you," Desdemona responded.

"If you insist," I said.


	3. The Family

I remember the day that I first met her family. After meeting at our rendezvous spot, she let me follow her to a small cottage. "It's cute," I said.

"Yeah," she said, "But not as cute as you."

"I think it should go without saying that it's not as cute as you," I responded.

"It should, maybe," Desdemona said, "But I still love hearing you say it." Desdemona knocked on the door. Out came her mother. She looked a lot like Desdemona, except that her demeanor was entirely different. Her hair and skin were slightly darker as well.

"You brought a human with you, Desi," the mother said.

"I realize that you don't think beorc can be good, mother," Desdemona said, "But this one's different."

"Sure he is," the mother said. I felt so unnerved by her haunting presence and hateful stare that my body wasn't even reacting to Desdemona anymore. I felt cold and vulnerable.

"Honey, why can't you find a nice laguz boy?" the mother asked.

_No, _I thought, _anything but that…_

"It's my life, mother, not yours!" Desdemona shouted, "And I'm telling you Zihark's different! He's the most different person I've ever met! He's a studious mercenary with a very keen eye!"

"You believe what he tells you, Desdemona?" the mother asked.

"He brought me the herb I love!" she shouted. "He found it himself, and he told me it was of terrible quality compared to my beauty!"

"Oh," the mother said, "I see… he's one of _those _then."

"One of _whom?" _I asked suspiciously.

"Desi, can I speak to your 'boyfriend' in private?" the mother asked.

"I suppose," Desdemona said, "But you're going to have to promise me not to kill him. If you can't keep that promise I will _never _speak to you again."

"He will be alive when you get back, and not missing," the mother said, "You have my word on that."

"Fine," Desdemona said, excusing herself. But I knew that she would be eavesdropping on us the entire time; if she didn't trust her mother not to _kill _me, then she couldn't possibly have trusted us alone.

"I know what you want, you gross lecher," the mother said. "You plan to take advantage of my daughter and then abandon her."

"I would never even dream of abandoning Desdemona, and if 'take advantage of' her means what I think it does, I would let her decide the time and place," I said.

"So you are interested in her sexually?" the mother asked. I knew the answer to this question was yes, but at the same time… I thought that saying so to her mother would be tantamount to signing my death warrant.

But I couldn't lie. "Yes," I said, "And if you have a problem with that, you'll have to take it up with her."

Desdemona tripped revealing her location behind the door. "I wasn't listening!" she shouted, although it was apparent from her blush that she was.

"Very well," the mother said, "If you want to have a goddess-forsaken romance with a human, I'm not going to stop you, but you can never come in this house again."

"N-never?" Desdemona asked. "But mother…"

"It's fine," I said, "I'll just leave. And you can live happily together without me."

"No!" she shouted grabbing my arm. "I can do this! I can sacrifice my mother for you!"

"I… I don't want to make you…" I said.

"Zihark, don't you understand? If mother thinks that this relationship is 'goddess-forsaken', do you really want to be related to her?" Desdemona asked.

"Related… you want to mar…" I said.

"Shh," she told me. "You think too much." She turned to her mother. "And you… you have the opposite problem… you think too little."

"It's you who thinks too little, Desi," the mother said, "Why couldn't you be like your brothers? They all became Gallian soldiers. You… became a human-lover."

"Goodbye," Desdemona said. She wasn't crying. She was angry. She slammed the door behind her. I felt horrible. "I'm sorry, Zihark, I shouldn't have dragged you here…"

"It's no big deal," I said, "You're the one who got disowned."

"I'd like to think it's the other way around," she said, "I had the chance to stay with her… but if she can't accept my love for you, then I don't need her, or want her."

"Well, if you insist," I said. Despite my immediate feelings of regret, I tried to be happy; after all, if she sacrificed her family for me, then I had to do my best to show gratitude, lest her efforts be in vain.


	4. The Public

I remember the first time we made love. It was a bittersweet feeling. I loved her with all my heart; possibly too much not to feel conflicted by this. I had under a month ago seen her slam the door of the house she lived in, thinking she would never return. And I felt guilty and awful that it was my flirting and my feelings for her that drove them apart.

Nonetheless, she heard me say I was interested in her sexually, and this was as true now as ever. She undressed herself, and I followed suit. Even though I'd never done anything like it before, I had heard the basics of how I was supposed to. A couple of times I'd left her wanting—she said it wasn't because of my skills, although I didn't quite buy that.

One day I surprised her by making cologne out of her favorite herb… I barely had to do anything that night. It was the first time she had as much fun as I did. The third time's the charm, or so it would seem. I loved her, and it was sweet of her to love me back.

But I realized something. Every night we were happy. Every morning we woke up in each other's arms and it was the best feeling in the world. But between the morning and the night, we would be in the marketplace. Everyone glared at us when we held hands—slowly, but surely, she was letting go sooner, until eventually, she stopped holding my hand entirely. We were reprimanded every time we were caught kissing behind a building—slowly, but surely, she was kissing me more infrequently, until eventually, she stopped kissing me altogether.

"Desdemona," I said one night, "We need to talk."

"Talk?" Desdemona asked, "Why?"

"It seems like you… you don't love me as much as you used to…" I said. I wanted with all my heart for her to grab me and tell me that wasn't true, but figured nothing of the sort would happen.

"Zihark," she said, "I do love you! Now sweetheart, let's make love again."

As long as she was willing I was. But it took us both longer than usual. And Desdemona said, "It happens sometimes. Don't worry about it."

I would have gladly heeded her words, if this was an anomaly. It wasn't. It wasn't even just a pattern. It was a trend. The regularity of it changed—slowly, but surely, we took longer and longer, until eventually, it happened.

"I don't want to," she said.

"I… I understand," I said. I did understand, but not in the way the phrase usually means. I understood the trend had come to a head. I knew that she was planning to break up with me.

"I love you Zihark," she said, "Don't get the wrong idea."

_I'm right and she knows it._

"I just don't feel like making love right now."

_Because you want to lessen the sting of when you dump me._

"But maybe tomorrow," she said.

_There won't be a… wait, what?_ For a time, I felt that a weight had been lifted off my chest. We lay in the grass together.

"Zihark," Desdemona said, "Are you planning to dump me?"

"Never! I would never dump you!" I said. "I love you too much."

"Even though all the people hate you and can't stand our relationship?" she asked.

"That's their problem, not mine," I said. "Desdemona, I love you." I kissed her.

"I… I love you too," Desdemona said. She waited until she thought I was asleep. She ran into a clearing and started to cry.

"Desdemona…" I said, "What's wrong?"

"It's… it's nothing, Zihark. Go back to sleep," she said.

"No," I said, "If you're upset, it's my duty as your boyfriend to figure out what the problem is."

"Duty as my boyfriend…" she muttered. "Dammit."

"Dammit?" I asked, "What's 'dammit'?"

"Nothing," Desdemona said. "Go back to sleep."

"No," I said. "Not until you stop crying."

"Zihark," she said, wiping her eyes, "I'll be fine. I just… got sprayed by a skunk." I could smell her… she smelled perfectly normal. She was lying. But why?_ She _is_ going to dump me._

I tried my best to sleep but it was impossible. Eventually, my body reached its limit, and I crashed.


	5. The Reunion

I remember the pain I felt when I finally came to. I noticed that she was gone; unsurprising as it was, it still stung. All I found was a note.

_Dear Zihark,_

_I love you, but the pressure is too much. None of the people I used to be able to rely on are willing to help me anymore. I realize I must sound like a horrible person, but that's just because I'm weak. I'm too weak to stay with you. My mother discreetly told me the other day that I'd be welcome home if I left you. I know that you said you would never dump me, and I feel terrible that I have to… but I think it would be better for both of us, if we didn't see each other anymore._

_Desdemona._

I picked up the note, and I started tearing up. I didn't just tear up; I cried. I cried longer than I ever had before. I felt helpless and alone. I moved back east, although I couldn't face Daein again. In Crimea, the relations between beorc and laguz were… less cold, is what I'm willing to say.

While working in Crimea, I tried to secretly help laguz whenever I could. Somehow, I ended up working for another egalitarian mercenary, who seemed nice enough. At the same time, I met a charming young woman.

But her flaws amplified in my mind. She was a little devious, and her memory was not too great. Those were the things I knew her for the best. While we did become good friends, nothing happened beyond that.

There was also a man; a nice man, who wanted me to marry his daughter, who I met a few years later. She was sweet as honey, but she loved me, in a way that I knew I couldn't love her. Sadly enough, I had just told her how great she was, but found myself forced to reject her.

And I realized something; I didn't have to accept any girl; the commander seemed to be doing fine without a girlfriend—although, who knows? It's possible that he and his tactician were doing more than business together—I could be happy single.

I had been happy single for the seventeen years before I met her. But at that moment, all I hoped was that I could forget her.

And then… without warning, a woman came behind me, put her hands over my face, and said, "Guess who."

I could recognize her scent—as the most beautiful scent in the world. I could recognize her voice—as the most beautiful voice in the world.

"Desdemona?" I asked.

"Aw, shucks," she said. "You do remember me."

"How could I forget you?" I asked.

"Well, you don't always remember everyone you break up with," she said.

"And?" I asked. "_You_ dumped _me_."

"I did what I had to do, for your sake, Zihark," she said.

"My sake?" I asked, "Didn't you dump me because you couldn't take the pressure of being in an interracial relationship?"

"That's… that's what I wrote in that note," she said. "But… it wasn't only that. The pressure of being in a relationship with you _was _a factor, but it wasn't the _main _factor."

"It… it what?" I asked. She looked at me.

"Zihark, I was pregnant… with your kid," she said.

"My kid?" I asked. "That sounds like a perfectly good reason _not _to dump me!" I knew I sounded angry, and really, it would have been hard not to be, given that Desdemona not only left me but also didn't tell me I was a father.

"The Branded…" she said, "Otherwise known as 'parentless'."

"I'm a parent!" I shouted, "You're a parent!"

"The parents of the Branded don't exist according to society," she said. "That's why I left you… and when I gave birth to her, I gave her up. Told the parents that I just found her lying around. But I'm sure her face reveals my maternity."

"But it shouldn't matter anymore!" I said. "Daein currently has a Branded queen. _Daein._"

"I realize things have gotten better," she said, "That's why I went looking for you. I still love you, Zihark. But surely, you have moved on."

"Actually…" I said.

"Come, Zihark," she said. She kissed me gently. I was so certain this was a blissful dream. But it wasn't.

"Desdemona…" I said, "Let's find our daughter."

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "If we have a daughter, I'd like to meet her."

"Well, you are an anomaly among men," she said, "Most men would jump at the chance to avoid a child they didn't know they had."

"Well, yes, we know that I'm an anomaly," I said, my face flushing again. "That's how we fell in love in the first place."

And that night was the first good night's sleep I'd had in the past seven years.


	6. The Plan

The following night's sleep did not go as well as the previous night. Although it is normal to have anxiety dreams under such circumstances, I didn't realize that it was normal to have three on the same night. One was a fairly reasonable fear of my (far too old to be realistic) daughter deciding she wanted nothing to do with her 'deadbeat' dad… with me trying to prevent her from marrying that Izuka guy (yes, I realize that he's dead, but dreams tend to forget that).

The next one was a bit strange; my daughter had turned out to have been eaten by alligators (native to Goldoa, of all the things) because the king of Daein didn't like her. And… he would have gotten access to her, how? Desdemona wasn't so naïve to give up her child to someone insane. Or… was she?

I shook my thoughts away, and went back to sleep for the second time. The third dream was terrible. When I say "terrible" I mean worse than my daughter marrying a racist mad scientist (who was way too old for her and DEAD) _and _than her getting eaten by alligators, but what happened was that Desdemona and my daughter were having a picnic. I went over to the river to get more water, and by the time I got back, they had glowing red eyes, and they both looked like they were partially eaten, and there was one of those vigilante guys from Crimea—Floyd, I believe, although he was nigh unrecognizable—who said he was trying to get revenge on my traitor ass—his words—by eating my family.

I woke up in a cold sweat. Desdemona asked me what the matter was. "Oh, it's just… I'm worried about my daughter."

Desdemona got up and she looked sad. "I shouldn't have kept her from you… I should have known this would happen."

"Well," I said, "As long as we find her, and she's alive, my fears will be quelled some."

"I… well, that will take some time," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

She sighed deeply. "As you know, Daein hasn't been friendly to laguz… I fled to Crimea, where I met a nice woman, who said she would gladly adopt my baby once she was married. We spent a couple of years in hiding in her house during the Mad King's War. She was nowhere to be found. She said she was off looking for her fiancé. This made me sadder than ever."

"Because you missed me?" I asked.

"You… I'm sorry," Desdemona said, "I know that you love me more than I love you. My disappearance must have been even harder for you."

"It's okay," I said, "I coped. I'm just glad that I vowed not to get married. If I hadn't, I could've been brother-in-law to an impressive litter by now. And then you and I would…"

"You had other options?" she asked.

"Y-yeah," I said.

"Were they pretty?" she asked.

"I suppose," I said, "But only one of them was actually a catch. The other one was sort of a…"

"Slut?" she asked.

"Close," I said, "Tease. And I think she might prefer girls…"

"You say that so calmly," Desdemona told me.

"It means nothing to me," I shrugged. "My point is that if I hadn't felt so upset at your disappearance, I might have married the _other _girl. Or even one of her sisters, who have since gotten married to other people. And regardless of how important it is for us to catch up, we can keep talking when we're looking for our daughter."

"You really want to be an active father, don't you?" she asked.

"I do," I said, "I really do. Which is why I've been meaning to ask you… do you remember the name of the woman who you gave your child to?"

"I don't," she said, "After I offered, she went to look for her fiancé. She didn't even tell me her name. I meant to ask her when she returned, married, to take my baby, but her husband wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise."

"Well, in that case," I asked, "Do you remember what she looked like?"

"She… was very pretty. A blonde woman. Around our age; possibly a couple years older," she said.

"And Crimean?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Do you remember what her husband looked like?" I asked.

"Yeah. He was _huge. _Purple hair and bearded, almost like a lion, but he was a beorc," she said.

"I know them!" I said.

"You… you _know_ them?" she asked. "Like, personally?"

"Not well, but they fought in the war with me. One of my friends is also friends with the husband; and his—for all intents and purposes—adopted son is friends with the wife," I said.

"Do you know where they live?" Desdemona asked excitedly. "I know the house I met her in was moved out of fairly quickly."

"No, I don't," I said. "Like I said, they were nothing more than friends-of-friends. But I know someone who _might _know where they live. He's a friend of mine who lives in Crimea. He fought alongside the wife during the Crimean rebellion."

"Well, then are you saying we should ask him?" she asked me.

"Yes, perhaps," I said. "And it would give me an excuse to introduce you two as well."

"You sneak," she teased, "This is what you've been planning all along isn't it?"

"My main plan is to see my daughter," I said honestly, "If I can introduce people to you along the way, it's a nice bonus."


	7. The Visit

Desdemona and I headed west to Crimea. As we were walking that direction, each day, we would hold hands longer and longer, until eventually, we were spending all day holding hands. And I was certain that the only reason we weren't kissing again was because that would have impeded our progress.

Eventually, we made it to the Crimean border. We still had a ways to go before reaching our destination, but Desdemona started crying. "What's wrong, Desdemona?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm just remembering… my baby…"

"It's okay, honey," I said, "We'll find her and then we'll be a happy family again."

"I know you've been anxious," Desdemona said, "And frankly, so have I."

"Well, my friend will hopefully tell us what we need to know," I said. We continued heading west, and a little south, until we ended up in Ohma.

"Hi," said Jacob, one of the elder residents. I had only met him briefly once the last time I visited, so I doubt he remembered me. "My, we don't see many cats in these parts."

"No," Desdemona said, "I don't suppose you do." She was blushing; although I'm not sure whether it was out of embarrassment or because she remembers that her saying almost the same thing to me indirectly led to our relationship. If it's the latter, it's just more reinforcement that we're perfect for each other.

I knocked on one of the doors. Desdemona was getting antsy. I could tell from the way she fidgeted—she wasn't comfortable. "Relax," I said, "The man who lives here is my friend. I wouldn't be friends with a bigot, would I?"

"No," she said, "I guess not."

My friend Brom opened up the door. "Well, shucks!" he shouted, "If it isn't Zihark! We were just talking about you!"

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah, we were moping about the fact that you didn't want to marry Meg or either of her sisters…" he said. Desdemona looked uncomfortable again. I had to do something.

I cleared my throat and said, "Brom… I'd like you to meet Desdemona, the love of my life."

"Well, is _this _the girlfriend you were tellin' me about? She looks different than I expected…" he said. "I didn't know she'd be this pretty."

"Oh," Desdemona said, surprised, presumably at the direction the line took, "Well, thank you, Mister."

"Please," Brom said, "Call me Brom. We're all friends here," and then he turned into his house. "Hon," he shouted, "We got guests!"

"No problem, darlin'," responded his wife.

"Can I stay too?" Desdemona asked.

"I did say guests with an s, didn't I?" Brom asked. "Come in, come in. We're having chicken."

"Should I invite Nephenee?" I asked.

"Yeah, it would be kinda rude to exclude her from our festivities, wouldn't it?" Brom asked.

"Who's she?" Desdemona asked.

"Brom's neighbor; she also fought with us in the wars," I said. "She's kinda shy so don't be so upset if she seems to feel uneasy around you."

"Thanks for the heads up," she said.

I wandered over to Nephenee's place and knocked on her door. "Zihark!" she said, "Well this _is _a surprise. I didn't expect to see you again. And… uh… who's your friend?"

"This is Desdemona," I said, holding her hand, "My girlfriend."

"Well, that's good!" she said, "Brom told me you gave up girls."

"I sort of did," I said, but, looking to Desdemona's face, I continued, "But I can make an exception for the girl who made me feel that way in the first place."

"So… this is your _old _girlfriend?" she asked, "And you got back together? Good for you!"

"Thanks, but I didn't come to be congratulated. It's just that, while we're in town, Brom is having us over for dinner, and we didn't want you to feel excluded," I said.

"No, it's fine," she said. "I'll come, though. It was nice of you to get me. So… Desdemona, that's a pretty name."

"Thanks," Desdemona said. "Nephenee's a pretty name too."

"Aw, gosh," she said, blushing. I smiled, knowing that Desdemona was making friends with my friend's neighbor; which would, at least, give us an incentive to visit often, and maybe even give us an incentive to move here.

We entered the house, where there were lots of people. I could tell that Desdemona was overwhelmed. "Desdemona, you know Brom, this is his wife Lea, his son Marcus, his daughter Sarah and her husband Tim, his son Michael and his wife Suzie, his sons John and Thomas, his daughter Mindy and her husband Cornwall, his son Taylor and his wife Hannah, his daughter Meg—my former fiancée, it's a long story—and um…" I said.

"I… thanks for trying," Desdemona said. She looked more overwhelmed and confused than ever.

"Heh, sorry, I suppose that wasn't actually helpful," I said.

"Zihark!" Meg shouted. "It's been ages." She hugged me.

"It's good to see you too, Meg," I said. "This is Desdemona, the reason that I couldn't marry you."

"Oh, gosh," Meg said, "She sure is a beaut, isn't she? I understand completely."

"You… you do?" I asked.

"Yeah," Meg said, "I love you, Zihark, but my love for you can be shown from the fact that we're practically family anyway. I've also found someone."

"Ah, yes," I said, "This guy I don't recognize."

"Zihark, this is my new fiancé Dickie," she said. "Dickie, this is Zihark."

"Pleasure to meet you," he said.

"Brom, I don't know if it was appropriate to complain about me not marrying your daughters when their husbands and fiancé were present," I said.

"Oh, that?" he asked, "I was just teasin'. We were actually talking about this year's gourd crop."

"Oh, well in that case, I guess it's okay," I said.

"Got you again!" Brom shouted, "It was actually about building a pond in the yard."

"I'd say that was a good idea… or are you kidding me again?" I asked.

"You'll know when you see the pond," he said. "So, here's my question… what brings you to Ohma?"

"Oh, yeah, you see… Desdemona and I have a child," I said.

"You… you're a poppa too?" Brom asked.

"Yes," I said, "But I've never met the girl, and Desdemona gave her up… to Calill and Largo. I'm pretty sure at least."

"Oh!" he said, "You mean that little girl?"

"You know her?" I asked excitedly.

"Yeah, don't you remember she was wandering around during the Goddess's War?" he asked.

"No…" I said honestly. "I must have missed her. So, I came to ask if you know where they live."

"I do," he said, "They live in an inn in Melior. Owners. You can find them there. But not until after you eat a hearty meal and spend the night here!"

"Well, thank you for your hospitality, Brom," Desdemona said.

"Any girlfriend of Zihark's is a welcome guest of mine," he shrugged.

We spent the night there, and we knew what we had to do next.


	8. The Journey

We got up early in the morning. I waved goodbye to Brom, and we were about to leave. Before we got out the door, Meg came out with a satchel. "Wait, Zihark…" she said.

"Hmm?" I asked.

"I can't let you and your lady friend go to Melior without taking some of momma's famous buns," she said.

"Well, thank you, Meg," I said. I said goodbye to her as well.

Desdemona turned to me and said, "I know why it must have been hard for you to resist her."

"She's a sweetheart, isn't she?" I asked.

"Yeah," Desdemona said. "I suppose it's a testament to your love for me that you didn't fall for her. Unless you're really shallow or something."

"Shallow?" I asked, "Me?" I started laughing. "You can't be Desdemona. Who are you?"

"I… I… don't know!" she said, pretending to panic. "Help!"

Nephenee gave us a weird look from her stoop. "Don't worry about it," I said, "It's all in good fun."

"Whatever you say," she said. It was clear she wasn't convinced. I was a little bit embarrassed. But no more so than by our stint in Gallia. Even the most progressive members of the community would be a little bit confused by our relationship, because the non-sexual things we did together were a little… unusual.

We were walking to Melior, and it was taking quite a while to get there. Luckily, I was able to run into Mist—my former commander's sister. "Zihark!" she said. "We haven't seen you in a while."

"No, of course not," I said. "This is Desdemona, my girlfriend."

"We'd all be happy to meet you," Mist said, "Except maybe Shinon, but he's an ass so he doesn't count."

"I'm sorry, but we're kind of on a mission right now," Desdemona responded. "I don't think we could really stand to be entrapped in another large group for the night."

"Where are you headed, anyway?" Mist asked.

"Melior," I answered.

"On _foot?" _she asked. "Well, I suppose that the laguz can run easily, but how are you faring, Zihark?"

"I'm doing fine," I said.

"Are you sure? We'd be happy to lend you Crème… or Topaz…" Mist said.

"What about Coconut?" I asked.

"I'm surprised you remembered that," Mist laughed, "But then again, why would someone like _you _forget? Oscar… is no longer with us."

"Oh, that's terrible!" I said.

"No, it's only a little sad. The Crimean knights needed him, after all. My husband says that it was rude to abandon him, but that it was worth it to keep Kieran from getting promoted," she said.

"Oh," I said, "See, when you said, 'no longer with us,' I thought you meant…"

"Oh, yeah," Mist responded, "I suppose that does make sense. So, what do you say? Want to borrow a horse?"

"I couldn't take one of the horses you're so attached to," I said.

"Well, then take one of the reserve horses. We have a really sturdy one that Rhys used to use. But he discovered that mercenary work was too dangerous," Mist said.

"Oh, my…" I said.

"So he started teaching in Melior!" Mist responded. I began to think she was misleading me on purpose. "If you go there, you might even be able to reunite them."

"Alright, Mist," I said, "Set me up." I asked Desdemona if she wanted to transform.

"I can't," she said.

"Oh, that's right," I said. "Will you let Desdemona have one of the reserve horses as well?"

"We might let her have this one," Mist said, "It's Gatrie's reserve horse. It should support her weight."

"Thank you," she said. "I know I'm a huge burden."

"No," I said, "You're not."

But soon enough, we were headed for Melior, and it didn't take very long at all. We ended up in the tourism district. "Now," I said, "Let's go look for an inn."

Of course, finding a specific inn in a tourism district was only slightly easier than finding a specific blade of grass in a haystack—like the needle, it's extremely hard to find, but it's not even something you're likely to know when you see.

I asked Desdemona if she was willing to split up with me. She seemed nervous at first. "Are you afraid that people will persecute you if you're not escorted?"

"A little…" she said.

"Well, I'll find a trustworthy escort for you, then," I responded. I looked around, for someone that I knew. I saw Makalov wandering the street—far too irresponsible. I noticed Devdan (who for some reason, known only to himself, and maybe Largo, has been calling himself Danved recently) purchasing some flowers—too weird; he'd probably make things worse without trying to.

"Sugarplum," I heard a familiar voice say, "You shouldn't be making a scene like this. You'll only get in trouble."

"Trouble? Who wants tr-trouble…? I only want wine," he said.

"That's enough wine for you," she said, "Come, let's go home." She might have been the most responsible person I knew.

"Astrid," I said, "Would you be willing to escort my girlfriend?"

"Um… well, I would, but why can't you do it?" she asked.

"We're looking for a specific inn, and I decided it would go faster if we split up," I said.

"Well, I think I can help you," she said. "Which inn are you looking for? Calill's?"

"How did you know that?" Desdemona asked.

"Well, you know, none of the other inns are owned by veterans we know personally," Astrid said. "Here, I'll lead you to it."

_Why didn't I think of that?_

Desdemona turned to me and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," I said, "I was just not thinking this through very well."

"Hey, stupid people do that way more often than smart people. But smart people notice," Desdemona said.

"You still think I'm smart?" I asked.

"Of course," she said, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Will you two come?" Astrid said. We followed her to the door of the inn. "Shall I hold open the door for the lady, or would you prefer to do that yourself?"

"Um… we don't need any more help, thank you," I said.

"Alright then," Astrid said, walking away.

"So, if this is all accurate, our daughter is behind this door," I said.

"Yes," Desdemona said. We hesitated a few moments before finally opening the door.


	9. The Daughter

I knocked on the door. Calill opened it. "Hello," Calill said, "You can… oh, hi, Zihark, and… oh… did you come back to thank me?"

"Not exactly," Desdemona said, "Calill, was it?"

"Yeah," she said.

"You know how I said that I found her lying around?" she asked. "I lied. She's mine. And… and his."

"Zihark's baby?" Calill asked. "And yours? So that means that Amy is…"

"Don't say it," I warned.

"My, what an angry reaction," she said, "I mean no disrespect, after all. AMY! Come out here."

"Yes, mom," she said. She gasped when she saw us. "Nanny!" she shouted, jumping into Desdemona's arms.

"Nanny?" I asked.

"As you know, Zihark," Desdemona said, "I couldn't give her up right away. I wanted her to forget everything about me, but I knew that she wouldn't. She was nearly four when I finally managed to. I put on a guise as a nanny, looking out for her when her real parents were out fighting the war."

"Huh?" Amy asked. "You… you what?"

"Amy," Desdemona said, "I am your true mother."

"That doesn't make sense!" she said, "You're a laguz!"

"Well, this man, Zihark, is your real father," Desdemona continued.

"I'm so confused," Amy said.

"Amy," I said, "I never knew you existed before now. Shortly after she conceived you, we broke up. It was a miracle that we got back together. But now that you're here, I'd love to be in your life."

"This is… this is wrong!" she shouted. Amy ran into the other room.

"I'm sure she just needs time to adjust. After all, she's spent her entire life thinking we were her parents, and now she find out we're not," Calill said, "Don't be upset, Zihark."

_How can I help it? My own daughter hates me._

"Zihark," Desdemona said, "Don't worry about it. I'll go talk to her."

"You'd do that for me?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

I waited outside for them to come out. I knew that it was rude to eavesdrop, but I had to know what they were saying. Much like Desdemona eavesdropped on me and her mother, I went over to eavesdrop on her and Amy.

"Amy," Desdemona said, "What's the matter? You like me, don't you?"

"I do," Amy said, "But I don't know this guy."

"But Calill does," Desdemona responded, "And she trusts him, doesn't she?"

"I don't," Amy said, "I know he left you behind. He doesn't care about you at all."

"He didn't leave me," Desdemona said, "I left him. And for the last few years my heart ached for him, because I regretted hurting him. And if you should get mad at either of us, it's me, who gave you up to a beorc couple out of fear, not Zihark, who learned of your existence and immediately went on a journey to find you."

"But you were the one who cared for me when I was little," Amy said. "I've never met him."

"That is _not _his fault, Amy," Desdemona said, "It's _mine_." Desdemona started to cry. I knew that by doing this I was giving away my location and my action, but I had to step in.

"Desdemona!" I shouted, "You can't blame yourself for the crimes of society!"

"Were you listening in on us?" she asked.

"I… maybe," I said embarrassed.

"Well, you know, Zihark," Desdemona said, "I know that I said it was society's fault, and I think we can all agree on that, but it was me who chose not to be an outcast over you. It was me who didn't let you meet Amy because I didn't want you to know that you had a 'Parentless' baby."

"Please, don't say that word. It's more offensive than Branded, and she's sitting right there," I said.

"Well, as her parent, I don't agree that she is parentless, but I know that society will think she is," Desdemona said.

"Can I say something?" Amy asked.

"Yes," I offered.

"So… you two come in, tell me that my whole life I've been lied to… that I'm some freakish mutant…" Amy started to cry.

"You are not freakish or a mutant," I said, kneeling beside her, "If anyone tells you that you are, he's a liar, and a bigot. Someone you should not associate with. You're just as much of a person that you always thought you were."

"Yeah, right!" Amy shouted, "Leave me alone!" She started to cry. Desdemona and I sighed, defeated, and left the inn.

"I know she's being difficult," Calill said, "But I'm sure that we can deal with her later."

"Thank you for helping, Calill," I said, "I understand this must be a significant burden on you."

"Not at all," she said, "I'm happy to help out a fellow vet in need. Why don't you sleep it off? We have a vacancy."

"Okay," I said. We spent the night there, hoping that we could convince Amy to go with us the next morning.


	10. The End

It was morning, and after getting breakfast, Desdemona and I awaited Amy waking up. I began pacing nervously. Desdemona told me to sit down, but I couldn't keep still. Amy came down the stairs, looking at me. "Oh, you're still here," she said.

"Look, Amy," I said, "I know that this will be a big change for you, and that most of what you have heard seems to be proven false, but don't get mad at me for it. I love you."

"What is love?" Amy asked, "You don't even know me! You met me yesterday!"

"If I was raising you from birth, would you question me loving you as soon as I saw you?" I asked, "Desdemona never questioned it, and she was a lot older than you and not related to me when I loved her as quick."

"Your relationship is different," Amy said. "It's more like… the people I always _thought _were mommy and daddy's relationship."

"Okay," I said, walking away sadly. "If you don't want to be our daughter, I guess that the trip we spent so long on is in vain. It's okay. We could always try to make another one."

"Another one?" Desdemona asked, "Why would I even be considered fit to? The first one doesn't like us at all."

"I guess we're really so bizarre that we're the only people in the world who can love each other," I said.

"That's… that's not true!" she said, "Well, maybe it's true about _me. _But not about _you. _There was that nice Meg girl."

"She… she only learned to love me because she thought we would be married," I said.

"And who was it who arranged it?" Desdemona asked.

"It was… it was… Brom, her father," I said, "Because he thought that women didn't have to be eccentric to love me…"

"And he was right," Desdemona said. She looked at me and said, "If anyone sabotaged this relationship, it was me. It's not because you're too weird, Zihark. Even if you are a mercenary who studies." It cheered me up a little, but not completely.

"Umm," I heard a childlike voice say. "You two… I think I might have come off as a bit mean."

"A bit mean?" I asked, "Nonsense. I would never expect you to tell me anything but the truth."

"Well, the truth is, I'm a bit nervous," Amy said, "And I would like to get a relationship with you."

"Really?" I asked, "Are you just saying this because you saw how sad we were?"

"Yeah, kinda," she said, "Seeing you so sad made me realize you weren't just saying you loved me because you thought you had to."

"Well, I was thinking that we would move to Ohma, if that was okay with Desdemona," I said.

"That village, with that friendly family, and that Nephenee girl?" Desdemona asked.

"Yes, that's the one," I said. "I'm sure that they'd be happy to have us there."

"And it would be a nice midpoint between our two homelands too, wouldn't it?" asked Desdemona.

"Yes, it would," I said, "So are you willing to come to Ohma with us, Amy?"

"I… I am," Amy said, getting ready to come along with us. But I turned around and I saw Calill and Largo standing by the door looking sad.

"Are you two going to be okay with this?" I asked.

"It's just that Ohma's a little far away," Calill said, "Will we be able to see her?"

"Of course," I said, "You can visit whenever you want, and sometimes, we'd come visit you as well."

"I guess that's good enough," Calill said, but I could tell that she was sad. I knew the look on her face well. It was one I'd seen on myself the morning after Desdemona left. When you've formed a bond with someone, not comparable to any other relationship, it hurts like hell when the bonds separate.

I said, "Amy," looking down at my beautiful daughter, "I think you should stay with Calill and Largo."

"But they…" Amy said, "And you… don't you love me?"

"Of course I do," I said, "But I don't want to punish Calill for keeping you alive and safe long enough to meet you. Don't worry, we'll visit often."

"Did you just let Amy stay with them?" Desdemona asked in disbelief, "I'm surprised at you."

"Good or bad?" I asked.

"Well, I guess it's good. I didn't know you'd be willing to separate from our daughter. I guess that means that you've grown from your relationship with me," she said.

"I didn't want to let her go," I admitted, "I did it because I didn't want Calill to suffer the same pain I went through."

"But we are going to visit often, right?" Desdemona asked.

"Of course. It takes about a week to get from Ohma to Melior on horseback, so how about once a month?" I asked.

"But we have no horses," Desdemona said.

"I figure if the Greil Mercenaries keep going off and doing other things, we can keep the supplies coming."

"Pardon me?" asked a weak voice, "I heard someone talking about the Greil Mercenaries?"

"Yeah, that was me," I said, turning around. "Rhys! Long time no see!"

"Oh, I see you've found someone," he said, "I'm so happy for you. And… look, it's my old reserve horse…"

"How's school going?" I asked.

"Oh, you know kids, they think even the most terrifying stories are exciting and wonderful," he said, "But have you been married yet?"

"Married?" Desdemona asked, "Is that even possible?"

"Yeah, interracial marriage has been legal in Crimea since the end of the Mad King's War. If you're not married, I could…" he said.

"Marry us?" I asked excitedly, "If that works, we'd love it!"

"Oooh! I would too!" he said, "Having spent the majority of my adult life in mercenary work, I spent far more time speaking at funerals than presiding over weddings. But the latter is much more fun."

"I can imagine," I said.

We were married in the fall. Mist let us keep the horses that we borrowed, because while we were gone, Ike apparently decided to run off with Soren—so my suspicions were probably right—so Gatrie used his horse now. We moved into Jacob's old house. He said that he didn't need all that room since his wife died, and moved into a smaller house.

Every other night, Brom would invite us over for dinner. We couldn't refuse a meal with such a great guy. Eventually we started inviting his family over as well. And soon, even Desdemona knew the names of all of his children, although she still had some trouble with the in-laws.

Meg and Dickie got married and had a litter of their own shortly. While Desdemona and I would spend most of the time visiting Amy, we made an exception one time, to let Amy visit us and play with Meg's children. Amy considered us her other set of parents, and considered Brom's children and Nephenee her aunts and uncles. Auntie Meg was her favorite, which surprised nobody.

How ironic that when Desdemona and I had been persecuted our whole lives for being unusual, we could find happiness in one of the most traditional towns. Simplicity, without any of the formalities of city life, without any of the hatred of brainwashed towns. This was the life for us. And we have been here for the last thirty-five years.


End file.
